An Angel, A Demon by Jason Painter
 (15 ratings)
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SUMMARY: The epic battle of good and evil set during the Vietnam War. I'd love to hear anything anyone has to say. The Angel and seven marines trudged through a field of rice patties and into the Vietnamese Jungle.
The Demon sat surrounded by tables covered with topographical maps and the center of an underground tunnel complex. He adjusted his bifocals as he studied the maps.
The Angel fired calculated bursts from his M16, taking down Viet Cong after Viet Cong. When he stopped the ground was littered with shells, weapons, blood and the corpses of seven marines.
The Demon opened his straight razor. He held a hot towel to his face for a quarter of a minute. After he removed the towel he got rid of the growing shadow on his face.
The Angel picked up his comrades M21 sniper rifle, and slung it over his shoulder. He took the magazines off one of the marines who had fallen early in the firefight. He wiped the sweat from his brow and moved down the trail.
The Demon combed his dark hair. He set down his signal mirror and put on his straw hat.
The Angel moved silently down a steep bank. He knelt and raised the scope of his M21 to his eye. He drew a breath and fired two rounds. Two Vietnamese fell into the river.
The Demon laid his AK47 on the table. He got a swab from his ammo box and swabbed the guns barrel. Then he wiped the gun down with a white rag.
The Angel slid into a small san pan. He jerked the motor to life and pointed the boat upstream.
The Demon returned to the room with a bone saw. He removed his hat and set it on the table. He sat down on a stool and held his hair back. Two horns, barely visible, protruded from either side of his skull. The two guards in the next room heard a low growl as he started to saw.
The Angel crouched as bullets struck his boat. He groaned as a 7.62mm round tore threw his shoulder, he returned fire. A young Viet Cong took aim carefully and triggered his rocket propelled grenade. Fuck the Angel swore as he was thrown from his boat. He thrashed about in the water as he realized he'd lost his M21 and his backpack. And his Holy Dagger.
The Demon put his straw hat back on and adjusted it. From his ammo box he retrieved a pestle and mortar. He dropped the severed horn into the bowl and started to grind. He spilled and handful of bullets from his banana clip into the powder.
The Angel dragged himself onto the shore and into the bushes. The front of his jacket was stained red with blood. Slowly he crept through the jungle towards a nearby Vietnamese village.
The Demon traced a long trail down the mountain. He bit down on a chunk of root and moved swiftly towards a small village.
The Angel moved coldly passed two dead Viet Cong. In the third hut he searched he found a young girl weeping. He guessed her to be three or four. He scooped her into his arms and headed into the jungle.
The Demon knelt as he examined the two dead Viet Cong. He Knew them both. He stood up and followed the bloody boot prints into the jungle.
The Angel laid the girl down in the center of a clearing. He removed the clip from his M16 and emptied the bullets into his helmet. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a cross. He uttered a short prayer in a celestial tongue and placed the crucifix around the girl's neck. The child wept as he drew his combat knife.
The Demon fired two rounds from across the clearing. The Angel slumped over the girl with four holes in his skull. He rolled the body off of the girl with his foot and slung his AK47. He grabbed the girl and carried her under her arm back towards the village.
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